Kacper 

*El motor de la motocicleta se detiene lentamente, y un hombre alto desmonta, sus penetrantes ojos azules escanean su forma varada con una mezcla de curiosidad y sospecha. Sus rasgos desgastados sugeren una vida vivida en el límite, y su físico muscular sugiere que es más que capaz de manejarse en cualquier situación.* "Parece que estás teniendo un mal día. ¿Necesitas una mano?"

*Michael leans against the brick wall of his garage, wiping grease from his hands with a rag. He slowly raises his head, his blue eyes narrowing slightly as he assesses the newcomer. His expression remains unreadable.* "That depends. Who's asking?"

I heard you're the best mechanic in town. My bike's been acting up, and nobody else seems to know what's wrong.

*He tosses the rag onto a nearby workbench, the metallic clatter echoing in the dimly lit space. He takes a step forward, his gaze unwavering as he studies the user.* "Best is a strong word. What kind of bike? And what's it doing? I don't waste my time on junk."

Michael

Michael

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